Always
by Drucilla Black
Summary: (BLD SIDE STORY) COMPLETE Pansy Parkinson remembers the boys she’s been with, and tries to figure out why she always goes back to her first, Marcus Flint, even though they're not in love...
1. The creation of the Slytherin Slut

**Always**

**Plotline: Pansy looks back on all the boys she's been with, and tries to figure out why she always goes back to her first, Marcus Flint, and why she chose him to be her first in everything. They're not in love, but it's deeper than any kind of lust can go, so what is it that they have for each other? **

**Rating: R for some swearing, talk/reminiscing/descriptions about past sexual encounters.**

**NB: Yes, this is a side-story to "Behind Locked Doors." I own nothing but the plot. Flames only keep me warm in winter. **

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**Chapter One: The creation of the "Slytherin Slut"**

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Since my second year, when it got around that I was caught making out with the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Marcus Flint, I've been branded as the "Slytherin Slut." It didn't matter to anyone that it was my first kiss; the label had already been given to me, and there was nothing I could do about it. That's what happens when you're the first girl in your year to be kissed.

So I decided that if that's what they were going to call me, I would live up to it. Two months later, I was caught in a broom cupboard, giving a random Ravenclaw a blowjob. It wasn't my first time. I had gone to Flint again for that. He had given me my first kiss, and been the first person I had ever given a blowjob to, along with other things. Flint was always my first in the areas of fooling around. I don't love him – I don't believe in love - but I've always gone back to him at the end of the day.

At the very beginning of my third year, he became my first in absolutely everything before I had turned thirteen. I can remember every single detail like it was yesterday. The way he undressed me slowly, almost lovingly (I say "almost" because love is not a real thing. It is just an ideal of the foolish), like I was something special and expensive. The gentle, wet kisses he rained all over my body. The way he stopped to make sure I was alright when I cried out in pain as I felt him enter me for the first time and I experienced the sharp pain that came with losing my virginity. The way we rolled over and over, fighting for dominance as my pain faded into intense pleasure that continued to peak as we moved together.

My next sex partner was Oliver Wood, Marcus' arch-rival, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. It was a stark contrast to how sex with Marcus had been only five weeks beforehand. We were both in The Hogshead, illegally obtaining alcohol from the sleazy barman, and both a little drunk. I noticed him looking at me lustfully for some of the time while he was there, and when he left to go to the bathroom, I followed him in there. He was just standing there by the cubicles as if he had been waiting for me all along. I moved closer to him and kissed him with all of the experience I had, which was more than he knew. 

This time, there was no slow, gentle foreplay. Our kisses were savage, filled with lust and the hatred that burns eternal in the rival houses Gryffindor and Slytherin. My mind was fogged with alcohol and I vaguely remembered Wood pushing me up against the strong cubicle and the click of its door locking. My skirt hitched high around my hips and I felt my underwear being peeled down my legs to be abandoned somewhere on the dirty tiles. The next thing I remember was wave after wave of orgasm racking my body as Wood fucked me hard and fast against the cubicle wall with my legs wrapped tight around his hips. He didn't stick around long after we were done except to act all regretful and repenting like a typical hypocritical Gryffindor, and beg me not to tell his girlfriend what we had just done, or to let it slip to her that I was only thirteen. I went back to Marcus that night, and we did it hard and fast with me against the wall in his private dorm, screaming each other's names for what seemed like hours.

My friend, Lucas Nott, was my third sex partner only a few days later. I was sober this time, but I wish I hadn't been, because to be perfectly frank, it was terrible. Lucas had no idea what to do, and he didn't last very long, so I did the only thing I could do in that situation. I faked it and left as fast as I could, and we never talked of it again. Once again, I went back to Flint. I just turned up at his dorm that night, and he let me in without a word. We kissed frantically, and I found myself naked on top of him on the expensive Persian rug, my long nails raking across his pale chest and leaving red welts.

I don't like remembering my next time, because it practically classifies as rape. I even threw up after it happened. I was drunk again at the Hogshead, and decided to make my own way home. I was just staggering along with a silly little smile on my face, humming tunelessly. The next thing I remember were two boys from Ravenclaw, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein, coming up and chatting to me in an unusually friendly manner for them, considering how much they had ignored me for the past few years in the Slytherin-Ravenclaw classes. After that, everything started to blur. I remember a sign saying "The Leaky Cauldron", a bed, and me trying to push Terry and Anthony off me at different times but being too drunk to be successful. Nobody apart from Marcus would ever know that I had not fully consented to either one of them, because I made it out to be something else whenever anybody asked. Of course, Terry and Anthony went around telling everybody I had been a willing participant in a threesome, something which seemed to fit in perfectly with my "Slytherin Slut" brand. On the eve of Marcus' graduation, they were found beaten and hexed into near-oblivion with their own wands. Their attacker was never found.

I seemed to fall into a state of disconnection after that incident, and sex seemed to be the only way I could re-connect with myself for just a short time. I've had sex with more boys than I've actually told my friends, but if I can't remember names, I don't tell. For the rest of the year, the only faces that stood out were those of Marcus Flint and my DADA teacher, Professor Lupin. 

For all of his mild appearance, Professor Lupin was not exactly a tame lover, being a werewolf and all. He tried to reject me the first time around, I remember, telling me that our relationship was strictly "Teacher-Student" and trying to make it anymore would result in disaster. Of course, I brushed that aside and for all his morals and love of what was supposed to be right, I don't remember hearing him reject at all when I guided his hands to my breasts and used my free hand to undo his belt and the zip on his trousers. He would always be a hypocritical Gryffindor at heart, Professor Lupin. He acted so moral and upright in public, but he was willing to fuck a thirteen – going on fourteen – year-old Slytherin student in his own classroom behind locked doors. That's all a Gryffindor is. A hypocrite. They act so proud of their so-called morals and do-gooder attitudes, but the things that some of them do away from the public eye would make Salazar Slytherin turn in his grave with disgust.

We did it more than once as well. Sometimes he laid me down naked onto his desk and we were slow but powerful, but most of the time I found myself with my legs wrapped tight around him so I wouldn't slip - clothed save for my underwear – while he fucked me against a wall with an animalistic fervour. Of course, this information got back to Dumbledore eventually – by the time it did, parents had become aware that he was a werewolf – and coupled with other issues, Dumbledore had no choice but to fire him and put a bad mark on his record. I doubt he'll ever get a good job again. After all, who's going to hire a man that's a paedophile as well as a werewolf?

A Slytherin called Graham Pritchard was also one I remember in-between Lupin and Marcus. One of the worst I've ever had, enough said. He lasted maybe a minute and had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Like I always did, I went to Flint's room that night and Graham became a nobody, just a number with a face in the back of my mind. I think it was around then that I began to wonder…Why was Marcus Flint the one boy that I always went back to?

With the exception of Draco Malfoy, the other sex partners – Theo Nott and Malcolm Baddock – are dim memories. Draco and I had been friends since we were toddlers, and sometimes it was only natural for a friendship to be upped one more level to a physical relationship. Sex had never felt so wrong. Having sex with Draco felt almost…incestuous because I knew him too well. So, I did what I always did in times of need. I went back to Marcus, even after he left Hogwarts. He gave me a PortKey to his apartment. Draco caught me out eventually. One night, I was too tired to leave, so I stayed with Marcus for the night, and we woke up in the bed together. Draco had found the PortKey by then (It had been in the form of a Golden Snitch) and had found us. To say the least, he wasn't happy. Our nine-month "relationship" was over. For one of the only times in my life, I felt guilty for hurting another person and began wondering if I should try and clean up my reputation a little.

So when I came back for my Fifth year, I decided I would only be with Marcus. Sure, we weren't in love, but whatever it was that we did have worked for me. He was reliable, honest and there were no strings attached in our liaison of sorts. This worked fine until I turned up one night and Marcus didn't respond when I kissed him, but pushed me away from him instead.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him. He sighed, pushing dark brown hair out of his face.

"I don't think we should do this anymore, Pansy." I frowned.

"Why? You don't find me attractive anymore?"  He shook his head.

"No, it's not that. It's…well…I've started seeing this girl…"

"You're sneaking around on me?" I demanded, my temper beginning to rise. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"How can I be sneaking around on you if we were never together to begin with?" He retorted. I knew as well as he did that we weren't together, but for some reason, actually hearing it with my own ears hurt more than any physical blow.

"Who is she?" I asked, trying to keep myself calm. I only betrayed myself through my shaking hands.

"I met her in the Ministry of Magic. Her name's Rhiannon. Rhiannon Rosier. I've actually been seeing her for about a month, and we've started to get serious so I thought…"

"So you thought you could just toss me out like yesterday's 'Daily Prophet'?" I finished sullenly, staring at the ground. "But then, what else would you do with me? I'm just the 'Slytherin Slut' after all. I'm good for a fuck or a blowjob but that's about it. Nobody cares that I'm human and I think and feel just like they do."

"Pansy-" Marcus reached out for my hand. For a moment, I gave in, then came to my senses and yanked my hand away.

"I hate you, Marcus." I said to him tonelessly before taking the PortKey out of his place.

We didn't speak again for ages. From what I heard, he and Rhiannon lived together for a while, then grew apart due to the long hours they were both working – In other words, they were each fucking other people at work -, and Rhiannon moved out. I became lost in a sort of black hole where I disconnected from myself once more to numb the feelings I felt from losing Marcus. There were no new names in my list of sex partners, just the same old faces over and over. I think I even went back to Draco at one point. I was at my absolute lowest point.

Then I started going out with Blaise Zabini and I thought that maybe I could get myself back on track. He would be the closest substitute I would ever have for Marcus. They moved almost exactly alike in the bedroom, and I found myself actually being faithful to him. 

Unfortunately, my actions against Draco caught up with me and what I thought was a good relationship backfired on me. Draco tried to kill himself – Which he denies to this very day – and I found out while visiting him in the Hospital Wing that he had also been seeing Blaise. In other words, we were both being played.

And guess who I ran to so I could forget about it? None other than Marcus Flint. He was definitely surprised when I appeared in his room, but when I kissed him without so much as a greeting; he didn't push me away this time, but pulled me even closer instead and tangled his hands in my long, soft, black hair.

We took it slow this time, savouring every moment that we had. Our kisses were long and passionate as our clothing was slowly peeled away layer by layer. Just like my first time with him, he was making me feel special and delicate. There wasn't an inch of my body that he didn't cover in wet kisses, and when I finally felt him inside me, it was pure euphoria. We moved slowly, holding onto one another as he rocked against me at an agonisingly slow pace and I bought my hips up to meet each of his thrusts in an attempt to make him move faster. He laughed at me. Not the mocking, superior laugh that I heard him laughing at lowly Gryffindors, but a good-natured, almost "loving" laugh.

"Slowly, Pansy. We have all night, and I want this to last for as long as possible." Then he dipped his head down towards my ear. "And I want to see how many times I can make you orgasm."

I'm not going into anymore detail. That night means just too much for me to share it all. All I will say is that it was one night that I never wanted to end.

Now, its Christmas night, and Marcus is talking to me right now. We're both still sober (The drinking games don't start until we're all here) but not relaxed. He's flirting with me too. I can see the lust in his eyes, and my body tingles when he gently strokes my cheek with his index finger. His head dips down so he can kiss up my neck and up my face to my ear, where he whispers to me.

"What would you say to you and me…alone…in another room…right now?" He asks me in-between kissing my ear and cheek. I can feel a smile forming on my lips as I lean up to whisper in his ear.

"I think" I stop to kiss him "that sounds like a very" I stop for another kiss "good idea." He moves back and I hold out my hand, which he takes and leads me out of the room, away from the people, away from the house-elf servants and the noise.

The first empty, lockable room we come across is the library. Marcus drags me inside and quickly locks the door. We don't bother to undress or go slow this time, knowing that we have to be quick, but that just makes it more exciting. Marcus pulls off his outer robes, discarding them on the floor and pushes me back onto the plush lounge, removing my underwear with his free hand. It's hard and fast and incredible. I orgasm hard and fast, whimpering into his shoulder, and he does the same not long after.

I lay where I am after it's over, trying to catch my breath. Flint, for once, hasn't gotten up to get dressed once he has finished, but is staying where he is.

"Oh…Pansy…Baby…" He pants softly, nuzzling his face into my still-clothed breasts. 

"Marcus. We should go back soon." I find myself saying rather reluctantly. I'd like to stay right where I am right now.

"You're right. We should." He replies, getting up after a minute and zipping himself up. I notice with a hint of amusement that his previously immaculate robes are crumpled from being thrown on the floor and stepped on at least once. Mine are probably a mess too, and my hair – which I had put up in a clasp for tonight – has come undone, but I really don't care. 

We join the party again, and Marcus gets me a glass of DragonsBlood Vodka – My favourite drink – while we look around for our friends.

"Sod off, Lucas!" That sounds like Pavarti. I look around, trying to find the source of the voice, and quickly spot our friends in one corner of the room. Pavarti is looking sulky as she hands over a handful of Galleons to Lucas.

"Sore Loser!" He retorts, and everybody starts laughing as we come over to join them…


	2. Christmas night and the morning after

**Always **

**Plotline: Pansy looks back on all the boys she's been with, and tries to figure out why she always goes back to her first, Marcus Flint, and why she chose him to be her first in everything. They're not in love, but it's deeper than any kind of lust can go, so what is it that they have for each other? **

**Rating: R for some swearing, talk/reminiscing/descriptions about past sexual encounters and a sex scene in this chapter.**

**NB: Yes, this is a side-story to "Behind Locked Doors." I own nothing but the plot. Flames only keep me warm in winter. **

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**Chapter Two: Christmas night and the morning after**

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We all stagger back into Draco's room, gasping for breath in-between our uproarious laughter. It was Goyle's idea to play "Truth or Dare" and in order to get back at Draco for making him and his twin, Lucas, kiss, Theo just dared Draco to go downstairs and French-kiss the first relative he came across, and that relative happened to be his Father. Oh…Merlin! It was just the funniest thing I'd ever seen, and the look on his Father's face was priceless. I thought I would actually die of laughter right then and there.

"Padma. Truth or Dare?" Draco asks. She twists a lock of her long hair, which is the same ebony shade that mine is.

"Truth." She says finally, staring at him. Her eyes are deep brown, like chocolate.

"Have you and Pavarti ever swapped sex partners or boyfriends without them knowing?" Padma, in a very out-of-character manner, suddenly goes as pink as her twin's outfit and doesn't answer.

"C'mon, Padma. Y'know y'gotta answer!" I slur, a drunken smirk on my face as I cuddle up to Marcus. Rather than push me away, he wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Alright, alright…but we only did it twice…just to see if they could tell the difference!" Padma insists, still that brilliant shade of pink. We all start to whoop loudly and cheer, especially the boys. After awhile, we eventually calm down and it's now Padma's turn to ask someone.

"Mili. Truth or Dare?" She asks the ample girl who is now sitting on Goyle's lap, her head resting contentedly on his shoulder.

"Dare." She answers without much consideration. Padma smiles wickedly.

"You've been sitting on Greg's lap for what seems like ages now, but you still haven't made a move. It's pretty damn obvious that you both like each other, so I dare you to hurry up and kiss him already, and don't forget the tongue action!!!" 

Mili blushes scarlet and turns around to look questioningly at Greg before leaning in slowly and pressing her mouth against his. It's a soft, chaste kiss and I can tell from the way she initiates it that this is Mili's first kiss. She goes slowly, waiting for and wanting him to respond, which he does as his mouth slowly opens and the gentle kiss between them deepens. Greg's hand slips up to the back of her head to run through her straight, chestnut locks, and Mili wraps her arms around his broad shoulders, pushing herself that little bit closer to him. The kiss is only broken for lack of air, and once it is, I notice how flushed they both are, and the happiness in their eyes. And I find myself hoping that something more comes out of this for them than that one kiss. They would be good together. Greg may not be Adonis, but he has a good heart, he's a lot smarter than most people would give him credit for, and I can tell just by looking into his eyes that he cares for Mili so much and he would never do anything to hurt her. So unlike so many of the boys I have known. _Has Marcus ever looked at you like that?_ A voice in my head taunts me. _You keep going back to him, even though he hurt you, even though he hasn't committed to you, even though he's never told you that he cares, even though there are so many better guys out there…How do you know that you mean anything at all to him anyway? How do you know he isn't just using you for sex?_

That voice just becomes too much to bear so, quite suddenly, I stand up and leave the room without so much as "by-your-leave." Holding onto the handrail, I make my way downstairs, blind drunk and not caring how much of a mess I must appear to be. I need something to occupy my mind, so I can ignore the voice even though I know it speaks the truth. Why else would Marcus have anything to do with me? I'm just a dumb slut. Sex is my best weapon. It's my only weapon. My only weapon against others and myself. So I'm going to use it. But I need a potential victim.

Ah! I can see Professor Snape, sitting in a corner on his own, a pensive expression on his face. I move towards him and not-so-subtly plonk myself in the chair next to him.

"Pansy." He nods, acknowledging my presence.

"Professor Snape." He smiles, an unusual thing for him. He must be drinking too.

"Please, Pansy, we're not in Hogwarts right now. You can call me Severus." I smile back at him flirtatiously.

"Severus. I like the way it rolls off my tongue." I purr, leaning over slightly so he can see my cleavage. I know it's the oldest trick in the book, but it rarely (If ever) fails to work. He raises an eyebrow.

"I see you're falling out of your top, Pansy. And I think I'll go outside for some fresh air, it's getting a little smoky in here for my liking." He leaves to go outside and I follow him, not willing to let my 'victim' go. Once outside I step up to him and tilt my head upwards, realising just how tall he is, and I plant a soft kiss on his mouth, the tip of my tongue coming through to flick oh-so-gently across his lips. That trick has never failed me.

Up until now. Professor Snape takes me by the shoulders and moves me an arm's length away from him, breaking the kiss that he did not respond to.

"What are you trying to do, Pansy?" He demands, his dark eyes burning into mine. I shrug and reach for him again to re-initiate the kiss, but, if anything, he seems to hold me back even further.

"You shouldn't be doing this." He says calmly. "Not only am I old enough to be your Father, I'm also your teacher and the head of your house."

"I don't care. I want you." I reply stubbornly, folding my arms across my chest. He shakes his head firmly, never taking his eyes off me.

"No, you don't. You just want to take your mind off something or someone. I can see it in your eyes, Pansy. I can read my students better than any of you know."

"No, I don't. I just want you." I answer stubbornly. "Now, are we gonna get to it or not?"

"No." Snape answers calmly, shaking his head again. "Unlike that insufferable idiot, Lupin, I'm not going to sink to that level. You shouldn't be doing this, Pansy. You're a beautiful young woman, and acting the way you're acting right now is very unhealthy. If anything, I think you should go and lay down for awhile."

"Fine!" I snarl, doing a complete one-eighty on the seductive act I had put on. I hike up my long skirt and stomp back inside, the pain of rejection still fresh in my veins. I'm just outside of Draco's bedroom when my anger turns to hurt and the next thing I know I'm on the floor, my body convulsing with sobs and my face wet with tears that I can't seem to stop. _You're just a useless, dirty whore…Not even Snape wanted you and we all know how long it's been since he last had a girl…_

The door opens a crack, and I look up, trying to dry my face on the long sleeves of my top. Marcus and Draco are at the door. Their faces hold no expression as they usually do.

"Pans…what's wrong?" Draco asks, reaching out to touch my cheek. I slap his hand away half-heartedly.

"Bugger off and leave me alone." I hear myself saying tonelessly. Draco sighs, knowing that he won't be able to talk to me in this state. The last time he tried, all he got for his troubles was a perfect mark of my hand across his face. He leaves me, going back into his room to join in whatever fun they're having.

"Get up, Pansy." Marcus orders me, no sympathy in his voice.

"Fuck off." I mutter and Marcus sighs in what sounds like frustration. "Just leave me here so I can cry myself to sleep or something." Through my tears, I can see Marcus roll his eyes then reach out to grab me by the arm and pull me to my feet. 

"If you're going to fall asleep, you sure as hell aren't going to be doing it here on the floor where we can trip over your prone body." He growls, dragging me through the hallway to one of the spare rooms. I still have tears running down my face, and I feel so drained. Maybe I should go to bed. Sighing, I undo the laces on my bodice and the zip on my skirt, allowing my clothes to slide off my body and puddle on the floor. I guess could just sleep in my underwear. Now I am left in nothing but a simple black bra and black panties. I can tell from the lust in his eyes that Marcus likes what he sees.

"Merlin, Pansy. You're such a tease." He says; his voice hoarse and a little slurred from drinking. "Why do you have to be so fucking beautiful?"

He moves forward, taking me in his arms, and tilts my head up to kiss me on the mouth. We just stand there for what seems like ages, his arms wrapped around my waist as we kiss drunkenly, but passionately, our tongues battling for dominance. His hands stay right where they are for once, instead of reaching either up to unclasp my bra or down to slip underneath my panties. 

Finally, the kiss is broken for need of air, and Marcus pulls me closer to him, my breasts squashed against his chest as he uses one hand to unclasp my bra and then slide the straps off my shoulders. Finally, it falls off of my body and I am naked save for my panties. Now he is holding me out at arms length and begins to rain kisses on my face, trailing them down across my jawbone, down my neck to my collarbone, and now he begins to kneel down so he can kiss more of my body, raining kisses across my breasts, occasionally flicking at my nipples with his tongue, making me purr softly. 

Then he starts again, trailing kisses down the space between my breasts, down across my abdomen and stopping right at the top of my panties. He pauses for a moment, as if deciding what to do, then hooks his fingers into the waistband and peels them off, allowing them to pool around my ankles. I kick them off aimlessly, and Marcus grabs my legs around the calves, forcing me to keep them apart as he rains kisses up my left leg and then his tongue flicks gently across my core and I cry out. He continues his ministrations and I moan softly, trying to coax him but my words become near gibberish as my voice turns into a soft purr and I simply stroke his damp, slightly sweaty head with one hand, putting the other on the nearby chest-of-draws to keep myself steady.

"Why do I always come back to you?" I sigh in-between my moans, barely loud enough for myself to hear. Moments later, the tight sphere of energy building up in my abdomen bursts and I bite the hand that I was stroking his head with to muffle my screams. I can barely keep myself steady as Marcus stands up and takes me in his arms again, stroking lightly down my bare back. It is now I remember that he is still fully clothed and I am completely naked, so I make fast work of stripping him of his robes, shirt, trousers and boxers. He kicked off his shoes and socks ages ago in Draco's room.

Somehow, we find ourselves on the bed and we're rolling over and over, fighting for dominance, just like we did our very first time together. This time however, I'm the one who wins and now Marcus is trapped on his back underneath me, his wrists held firmly so he can't fight back. My nails scratch across his chest and arms, but largely due to my mood and alcohol intake, my sense of touch and perception is altered and I find that my scratches occasionally draw blood, which I lap up in a feline manner, enjoying the hisses of pain from Marcus as well as the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

Finally, I impale myself on him, but I don't move after that. I sit there, staring at him, my obsidian eyes boring into his pale green ones, enjoying the control I have over him.

"Why do I always come back to you if we're not in love?" I find myself asking suddenly. Marcus doesn't answer, but strokes my thighs as an indication for me to start moving. I don't. "Why do I always come back to you?" I ask again, my voice taking on a desperate note. "Do you know why I always come back to you, Marcus? I'm not going to move until you tell me why. Why is it **you** that I **always** come back to? **Why**?" Marcus remains silent, his hands stay on my thighs, but they don't move. He appears to be thinking, which must be hard considering the fact that we've both had a fair bit to drink.

"We're not in love, we both know that." His words are slow. "But it's not lust, Pansy. It runs deeper than any kind of lust. I guess" He pauses, trying to remember the right words "we share some kind of bond because" He pauses again "I was your first in everything."  He starts stroking my thighs again. "Which you could say gives us **something**. Not love – which we both know doesn't exist anyway – but more than lust. And" He pauses to squeeze my thighs "it is **that** bond that keeps you coming back to me every time, and **that** bond that keeps me wanting you to come back to me, no matter what."

It sounds confusing, but it makes perfect sense to me. We're bonded, and a bond will always make people go back to each other at the end of the day. Satisfied with the answer for now, I begin to rock gently on top of him, stroking and scratching my breasts with my hands as I never change the pace. Then he reaches out to grab my hands and pull me down close to him so our bodies are close together. 

Holding me close, he rolls us over so I'm now underneath him and he's the one in control, going at the perfect pace. Not too fast, not too slow, and he's kissing me. My mouth, my neck, my forehead and cheeks and breasts, occasionally flicking at my nipples with his tongue or biting them not-so-gently. My first orgasm is a welcome shock as it racks my body, giving me that beautiful feeling of rising up higher and higher until I can touch the stars. But it's not over yet. Marcus, who by now seems to know my body as well as I do, pulls my buttocks up on a certain angle underneath him and thrusts deep into me, hitting the vital place that makes stars burst behind my eyes and I hear myself scream as my body seems to lock into a phase where all I can feel is wave after wave of euphoria rushing through my system.

"Marcus! Marcus! Oh, fuck, MARCUS!!!" I can hear myself screaming his name over and over. He doesn't answer, but I can see him smiling wickedly as he hits my vital spot again and again, and kisses me hungrily on the mouth to silence my cries.

I can't remember how many times I screamed his name, or how many times I felt those beautiful, euphoric waves in my body, but it's all over too soon for me and I find myself lying flat on my back, exhausted, tears silently running down my face. Marcus is lying next to me and reaches out to wipe them off my face.

"Pansy?"

"Mmm?" The tears don't seem to be stopping.

"You never told us why you were sitting outside Draco's room, crying." His voice isn't soft or sympathetic – it wouldn't be like him to display sympathy – just very matter-of-fact.

"That's 'cause I didn't feel like answering." I retort, not looking at him. He sighs, and out of the corner of my vision, I can see him roll his eyes in frustration.

"What?" I sigh. He simply raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to answer. I look away from him.

"I don't care what you say, I'm not answering, and it's not your business." I snap, curling up on my side away from him. He says "Humph" but doesn't bother to push it. Instead he gets off the bed and tosses me something. It's the shirt he was wearing under his robes. It's about two or three sizes too big for me.

"Put it on already."  He orders, sounding only half-amused as he pulls on his boxers. "You can't sleep naked here, it's not your damn house, remember?" Now he's back to the Marcus Flint that we all know so well. Gruff and bossy. Why's he so concerned about sleeping naked in someone else's bed anyway? We just had sex in someone else's bed.

"Fuck you."  I mutter sullenly, my good mood fading into sleepiness and irritation. He smirks.

"You just did." He replies and we both find ourselves having a short, sharp laugh at the lame joke.

"You're not going back to Draco's room without your shirt, are you?" I ask, tugging at one of the shirt-tails.

"Can't be bothered to go back, Pans." He says, sitting on the bed next to me. "Too tired, and the last thing I wanna hear right now are those Patil twin's voices. They start to sound like nails on a bloody blackboard after a few drinks. Move over." He scoots under the covers, and closes his eyes. I curl up into a ball, and moments later, everything goes black…

…When I first open my eyes, I am greeted with blinding sunlight from the sun glinting off all the snow outside. The blinding light only serves to increase the pounding in my head. My mouth is really dry too, all the classic signs of a hangover.

"Ugh. Hate. Hangovers." Are the only words I manage to get out of my mouth. I probably look like shit too. My hair feels tangled and my eyes are all dry and sore. I can hear water now, water in the ensuite bathroom. Draco once told me that every bedroom in his house has an ensuite. Still feeling groggy, I kick off the covers and go into the bathroom. It's hot and filled with steam so I can barely see a thing.

"Marcus?" I say, waiting for an answer.

"Pans? Is that you out there?" Yes, it's Marcus in the shower alright.

"Yeah, it's me." I answer, still feeling sort of groggy. "You won't be too long, will you? I want to use the shower too."

"Just get in with me, it'll save us time." He replies, pushing open the glass door. He has a point, I realise, and so I pull the shirt up over my head and get in with him under the spray of hot water, sighing as I feel the combined smells of alcohol and sex washing away down the drain. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo I say "For normal hair" and it squirts out the right kind for my hair, which I then lather up and rinse out, while Marcus just stands there under the spray, eyeing me. For once, it's not in lust. The look in his eyes is actually a contemplative one.

"What?" I snap, feeling a bit nervous about that look on his face. He shrugs and remains silent.

"Just thinking about something." He says as he opens the glass door and a towel flies out to dry him and wrap itself around his hips. I frown and put the self-detangling conditioner through my long, dripping wet hair. Once the charm has worked its magic, I rinse it out and say "All done." The spray of water automatically stops as I open the glass door. Like Marcus, a towel flies at me and rubs me (And my hair) dry before wrapping itself around my torso. Marcus is still in the bedroom when I enter, sitting on the bed. Again, he is staring at me in that contemplative manner.

"Will you stop that?" I snap, glaring at him. He raises an eyebrow.

"Stop what?"

"Stop…staring like that. It's creepy." I tell him, folding my arms. He shrugs.

"I was just thi-"

"Yes, I know, I know. You were 'just thinking.' You already told me that." I said in an exasperated tone. "What **were** you thinking about though?" He shrugs and opens his mouth as if to say something, then pauses for a moment.

"What would you say if I asked you to marry me?" He says slowly. I'm pretty sure my eyes just grew to the size of quaffles right now. I blink and pause, wondering if maybe I heard wrong

"What did you just say?" I ask. He sighs.

"Marriage, Pansy. You and I." He breaks it down for me like I don't understand English or something. "What would you say if I asked you to marry me? Not right now, of course. After you graduate." 

"**Why** in the name of **Merlin** would **you want to ****marry me?" I ask, finding my tongue after a few minutes. "You don't even love me." He shrugs.**

"Did your parents marry for love, Pansy?" I sigh.

"Touché. But still, why me of all people?" He shrugs again.

"I'm twenty-one, Pansy. I should have been married by now, according to my parents." I glare at him icily.

"So you just need a trophy wife to make your parents happy?" My voice sounds so cold that I'm surprised the room hasn't filled with frost. He snickers and waves his hands for silence.

"Calm down, Pans. That's a reason, yes, I'll admit that. But it's not the **only** reason I'm asking you. Remember last night, when you asked me to give you an answer to your question?"

"Why do I always come back to you if we're not in love?" I repeat the words slowly, carefully. He nods.

"Do you remember my answer?" I hesitate for a moment, trying to remember his exact words among a night of dimmed memories, alcohol and sex. They come back to me, slowly but surely.

"You said that we had something, a bond of sorts." I say slowly "You said it wasn't love – because we both know it doesn't exist – but it we had **something**, and that **something was more than lust." He smiles slightly.**

"Do you remember what else I said?" He prods. I try to think, then stop and shake my head, feeling annoyed with my still-foggy mind. He decides to finish it for me. "I said it was **that** bond that keeps you coming back to me every time, and **that** bond that keeps me wanting you to come back to me, no matter what."  And now I remember him saying that, and I can feel the tiniest of smiles curving on my lips.

"If you marry me, Pansy, we won't be perfect, you know that as well as I do." Marcus' voice is, for once, soft and earnest. "I know that we'll be happier than other couples such as Draco's parents, because we'll always have that bond that will keep us wanting to be with each other at the end of the day. At the end of the day, I think we'd be great for each other. We know each other better than anybody else. And so what if there's no romance? Romance isn't necessary for the likes of us. We know that what we'll always have will be **something**, and maybe that – and the absence of being in love – is all that we really need for a good marriage." He pauses to smirk "Plus, you can't forget that we're both of pureblood ancestry and filthy rich, and that can't hurt our status, can it?"

He's absolutely spot-on in all his points, and he knows it as well as I do. The more I think about it, the better an idea it sounds. Now I'm beginning to wonder, _why shouldn't I marry Marcus? We have a fair bit in common, we enjoy each other's company, we're both from high-ranking pureblood families, and the sex is great_. Then another question pops into my head. One vital question that will most likely be the deciding factor in my final answer.

"Do you remember those Ravenclaw guys that…hurt me?" I ask slowly, feeling sick just at the mention of what they did. Marcus' eyes narrow into pale-green slits.

"Damn straight I do. They're lucky to be alive after I went after them." I smile inside. I'd always **wanted to believe that it was Marcus who had hurt them, and now I knew the truth. What I **really** wanted to know though was **why** Marcus did what he did.**

"Tell me why you attacked them." Marcus shrugs; his eyes still dangerously narrow.

"Rapists are the lowest of the low, Pansy, but the funny thing is that I never thought it would ever happen to me or any of the few people that I genuinely care about. So when you, a fellow Slytherin, a girl, and someone that I care about and share an unspoken bond with, comes to me in tears after experiencing such a brutal attack from people that she considered harmless, something has to be done. You deserved revenge, even if it wasn't by your own hands."

"You did that for me then?" Marcus shrugs.

"Mostly for you. A little for me, because when you fuck with someone I care about, you fuck with me as well." We don't speak for awhile and I sit down next to him on the bed, not caring that we're both still wearing nothing but towels and our hair is still damp.

"Yes." I whisper suddenly, putting my head on his shoulder. He looks at me peculiarly.

"'Yes' what?" I chuckle lightly, feeling strangely relaxed.

"You asked me what I would say if you asked me to marry you." I whisper "Well, Marcus, I would say…yes." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Marcus smile and tilt his head down to kiss me, and I know from now on, things are going to be different for me.

I'm not saying everything is going to be wonderful and perfect, because I know they won't, in fact thing s may even be worse just around the corner, but I do know that my days of being branded "The Slytherin Slut" are over. Sure, Marcus and I are not in love, and we never will be, but we share that special bond which means we've always had **something, and that's better than the nothing that so many other pureblood couples have, isn't it?**

**THE END **


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